I'm a Cynic of merely 16 years. I'm Dyslexia and I have always had a passion for writing. An oxymoron of sorts. I'm told that Dyslexics tend to have a keen Ear for music. This Poem, the second i have ever written , is about my frustration with how sometimes language fails to do in countless words what music may do in seconds. P.S. The punctuation is dreadful on purpose
They Expect Music
The Stalemate of the diction
To express what is seldom seen.
Demolition of the meaning
betwixt the script and prose.
The Awkwardness of writing
what’s expected of a poem.
Between the stifling interruptions
imposed by what they deem.
Is accepted by the masses
as successful in it’s aim;
The solace of the Beat
from this disintegrating world of
falling walls composed of misbegotten words.
The very Beat that hails my foot to dance,
A steady constant flow
unbroken by the bonds
in which expression we forego.
The Unity of melody,
who’s value is well known
by both the factions in this world,
The Controllers and Controlled.
The message received by all who hear,
The symbols of this Noise.
By Eoghan Cooke